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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26456713">rollercoaster kinda rush</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarbug/pseuds/sugarbug'>sugarbug</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fever dream high [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, HQSwiftWeek2020, M/M, NO CHEATING it seems like there's cheating but it's just a flashback no cheating takes place, They're just stupid, You'll see if you read it, ambiguous timeline, and angsty teens, and there's not really even any romance, but not really bc it's going to be part of a series, i dont know what this is, sort of some osasuna as well i suppose but like, suna kinda emo for no reason</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:14:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26456713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarbug/pseuds/sugarbug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>rintarou likes to think he makes logical choices</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Suna Rintarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fever dream high [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923241</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>rollercoaster kinda rush</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is set in *gestures at a vague american rural-suburban setting* and it is intended to be read like . little goofy vignettes. pt 1 of 3 (?)<br/>also uhhhh this is unedited, i'll come back to do that eventually. i dont know how to write, thanks for tuning in &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <em>he is sensible and so incredible</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>and all my single friends are jealous</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>he says everything i need to hear and it's like</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>i couldn't ask for anything better</em> </span>
</p><p>“Yer sick in the head,” Atsumu says, “for going out with Samu.”</p><p>The locker room is quiet—everyone else has cleared out, the gym already cleaned up. Rintarou and Atsumu are the only ones still packing up their bags. The keys to lock up the gym are tucked in Atsumu’s back pocket.</p><p>“He told you?” Rintarou raises an eyebrow. He chalks up the sick feeling in his stomach to the lukewarm strawberry milk he’d had over lunch.</p><p>“<em>‘He told you?’</em>” Atsumu mocks. “Case ya missed it, we’re brothers. We live together. He wakes me up in the middle of the night just to tell me he’s going to take a piss.”</p><p>Rintarou rolls his eyes.</p><p>“Yeah, he told me.”</p><p>It’s bitter, the way Atsumu says it. He shoves his practice clothes into his duffle bag, zipping it up with enough force that Rintarou is surprised the zipper doesn’t break.</p><p>Rintarou knows Osamu is waiting outside too. Waiting for the <em> both </em> of them.</p><p>It’s been three days since Rintarou went out on his first date with Osamu. He figured Atsumu would have plenty to say about it come practice on Monday afternoon, but he didn’t think it’d be <em> this </em> bad.</p><p>“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Rintarou says as he shuts his locker. He doesn’t move, no matter how much his mind is yelling at him to <em> leave, leave, leave. </em></p><p>“I just don’t get it, I guess,” Atsumu mutters.</p><p>“What’s not to get?” Rintarou swallows. “He’s my type. He’s—” <em> not you. </em></p><p>He turns, scrambling to finish, but Atsumu is already gone. The fluorescent lights hum above him, singing a sad tune about foolish lovers that Rintarou would like to forget.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>he’s charming and endearing,</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>and i’m comfortable</em> </span>
</p><p>Dating Osamu, like everything else in Rintarou’s life, came easily.</p><p>The transition from best friend to boyfriend was practically seamless, and the way they interacted hardly changed. </p><p>Sitting closer together, kissing underneath the bleachers now and then. That was the only difference. Maybe a few more lunch outings on the weekends when they both felt energetic enough.</p><p>It was all so absolutely normal and fine, and Rintarou had absolutely nothing to complain about.</p><p>“Hey,” Osamu says through a mouthful of food, “you’re spacing out again.”</p><p>“What? Oh, sorry.”</p><p>Rintarou blinks. He’s only halfway through his lunch, while Osamu is nearly finished. They had swung by a favorite spot after weekend practice, and Rintarou figured they’d probably just spend the rest of the afternoon walking until they both had to return to their homes for dinner.</p><p>As predicted, they stroll the streets of their neighborhood until the sun is only a golden sliver above the horizon. When Osamu plants a parting kiss on his cheek, Rintarou wonders if he should feel elated.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>and you were wild and crazy</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>just so frustrating</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>intoxicating, complicated</em> </span>
</p><p>Rintarou <em> hates </em> thinking about nationals. Not just because they’d lost, but because Rintarou had never felt rawer.</p><p>After a rather emotional meal with the seniors, they all went bowling to loosen up. It was very evident that Atsumu was anything <em> but </em> loose, if his balled up fists and narrowed eyes were any indication. Rintarou was concerned for the cheerful bowling pin mascot on the scoreboard, who Atsumu had been glaring daggers at.</p><p>“Hey, step outside with me for a minute?” Rintarou had tugged on Atsumu’s jacket sleeve, voice low enough that the others wouldn’t hear.</p><p>They’d shuffled out into the bowling alley’s parking lot. It was drizzling, but not enough to drive them back indoors right away. Atsumu leaned against the corner of the building, scuffing his shoe against one of the parking blocks.</p><p>“What’d ya drag me out here for?” he asked finally.</p><p>Rintarou shoved his hands into his own jacket pockets, praying that it wouldn’t take too long to calm Atsumu down from whatever emotionally volatile state he’d worked himself into.</p><p>“You were starting to look like you’d end up injuring someone with a bowling ball on your next turn.”</p><p>Rintarou took the few remaining steps, falling into place next to Atsumu against the wall. Atsumu huffed but made little effort to argue.</p><p>“You know they’ll come back to visit for games, right?”</p><p>“It’s not about that,” Atsumu rolled his head to the side, eyebrows coming together under a mess of forehead wrinkles.</p><p>“Then what?” Rintarou chewed his gum slowly. It was a sickening neon blue color, coined out of one of the quarter machines inside.</p><p>“Do you think I’m gonna make a shitty captain?” Atsumu asked. His face was pinched up in an ugly way as he stared at the pavement.</p><p>“Definitely.”</p><p>Atsumu’s face only grew more sour. The gravel below crunched as he twisted his sneaker back and forth.</p><p>“Not really,” Rintarou slugged him in the shoulder. “No one cares about volleyball as much as you. It’s sort of unhealthy, actually.”</p><p>Atsumu’s expression began to mellow.</p><p>“You should probably see a doctor about it.”</p><p>A ghost of a smile.</p><p>“The juniors are totally gonna kick your ass when you’re captain though. That one squirrely kid who wants to be the starting libero? He’s kind of—”</p><p>Then a hand was on his jaw, and lips were pressed against his, and his allergies were making it <em> really </em> hard to breathe out of his nose, and Atsumu smelled vaguely of the artificial cheese that was served with the bowling alley nachos, and he really, <em> really </em> should push him away but—</p><p>“Sorry,” Atsumu said sheepishly, “ya just looked kinda pretty.”</p><p>Rintarou went cross-eyed staring at a raindrop that was running down Atsumu’s nose as he tried to think of something, <em> anything </em> coherent to say back. Before he could, Atsumu gave him a friendly (honestly, what the fuck) pat on the shoulder before heading back into the bowling alley.</p><p>When Rintarou finally joined their group back inside, Atsumu was roughhousing with one of the underclassmen. When they happened to meet eyes, a whisper of a blush grew on Atsumu’s cheeks, a twitch of a smile joining it.</p><p>They didn’t talk about the night before the next day at practice. Or the next day. Or the next.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>i miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>it's 2am and I'm cursing your name</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>i'm so in love that i acted insane</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>and that's the way i loved you</em> </span>
</p><p>Months later, lying awake in bed at an ungodly hour, Rintarou replays the scene in his mind for what might be the millionth time.</p><p>Stupid Atsumu and his <em> ya just looked kinda pretty </em>, as if Rintarou hadn’t spent the entire outing with the team wondering if anyone was paying attention to the acne that had sprouted up across his forehead that morning.</p><p>He kicks the sheets that have bunched up around his ankles and claws at his nightstand for his phone. It drops to the floor with a thud, and he sighs, too defeated to reach over the side of the bed and search for it. </p><p>He thinks about how, with one stupid kiss, Atsumu had unlocked the floodgates and how the idiot hasn’t left Rintarou’s mind since.</p><p>The thing is, Rintarou <em> knows </em> his feelings for Atsumu are vapid and shallow and totally ridiculous, as all teenage feelings are. Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop them from existing.</p><p>He flips onto his side and thinks about Osamu. Osamu, who makes him laugh with his deadpan humor. Osamu, who pays more often than not when they go on dates. Osamu, who understands the concept of boundaries and respect and isn’t a complete ass.</p><p>Osamu, who seems like he should totally, <em> obviously </em> be the logical choice as far as boyfriends go.</p><p>Rintarou isn’t sure when he finally falls asleep, but he’s certain he dreams of the wrong set of fingers intertwined with his own.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>he can't see the smile i'm faking</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>and my heart's not breaking</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>'cause I'm not feeling anything at all</em> </span>
</p><p>They’re shopping for Christmas presents when Osamu brings it up.</p><p>“Hey,” he says, surveying a sweater that is an ugly shade of green. “Can I tell ya something?”</p><p>“Please don’t tell me you want to stop at Hollister,” Rintarou begs.</p><p>Osamu snorts and puts the sweater back on the rack.</p><p>“No, somethin’ else.”</p><p>“Alright, shoot.”</p><p>Osamu chews on his upper lip, fiddles with the bubblegum wrappers and house keys in his jean pockets.</p><p>“I sorta feel like we worked better as friends,” he says after a minute. “Just friends, I mean.”</p><p>Rintarou’s hands still on the t-shirts he’d been pawing through.</p><p>They’ve only been dating for three months, but it simultaneously feels like it’s been a lifetime and no time at all.</p><p>He <em> knows </em> Osamu’s right, that he must also be searching for that spark that should dance around them when they lean in for a goodnight kiss, when their fingers brush over the table, when Osamu slings an arm around his shoulder.</p><p>He hopes Osamu can find that spark soon, and he doesn’t want to hold him hostage any longer.</p><p>“You’re breaking up with me,” Rintarou says, and it’s not a question.</p><p>Osamu, God bless him, looks somewhat mortified, and Rintarou can’t help it—he laughs, which only leads to Osamu looking <em> more </em> mortified.</p><p>He slinks over to Osamu and traps him in an awkward hug. It’s probably too bony because Rintarou is all limbs, and Osamu has way more muscle than a high school senior should, but it’s probably the most comfortable Rintarou has felt around Osamu since they started dating.</p><p>“You know in movies when the best friends say they’re never gonna date, but they always end up being soulmates or whatever?” Rintarou asks.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“I thought maybe that was supposed to be us,” Rintarou sighs, finally pulling back to get a glance at Osamu. “But I guess I’m more of the comedic relief, not the love interest, huh?”</p><p>Osamu’s face is hard to read for a moment, and when he opens his mouth, it’s careful.</p><p>“Is that some roundabout way of fishin’ for a compliment? ‘Cause you’re <em> not </em> funny, Rintarou.”</p><p>“Oh, fuck <em> you</em>.”</p><p>And Rintarou laughs, and he feels lighter than he has in months, and he feels silly for trying to toe the line between love and friendship with the wrong person. Especially when the person in question made for such an excellent friend to begin with.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>breaking down and coming undone</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>it's a roller coaster kind of rush</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>and i never knew i could feel that much</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>and that's the way i loved you</em> </span>
</p><p>When Rintarou shows up to the Miya household the day after Christmas, Atsumu graces him with the most attention he’s given him since their spat in the locker room at the start of the school year.</p><p>“Oh,” Atsumu says when he yanks open the door, stumbling a bit in his effort to unhook his ankle from the floor runner. “Hey.”</p><p>“Hey,” Rintarou says. He forces his teeth to stop chattering and shoves his hands even further into his jacket pockets.</p><p>“Osamu just ran out to grab somethin’ at the store, but he should be back soon,” Atsumu says, and the way he’s avoiding eye contact would be comical if Rintarou was watching the situation play out with anyone <em> but </em> himself.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“You can come in if you want, I guess,” Atsumu shrugs and steps to the side, and Rintarou forgets for a moment that he’s one of the most sought after high school athletes in their area because, for a split second, he looks so small and vulnerable.</p><p>“Okay,” Rintarou repeats and accepts the comfort that the home has to offer.</p><p>Atsumu closes the door then turns around, mirroring Rintarou with his own hands tucked away in his hoodie pockets. He draws them out to push his hair back. Rintarou wonders if Osamu has told him yet.</p><p>“I actually gotcha somethin’,” Atsumu says, and he takes a step forward. “For Christmas, I mean.”</p><p>He takes another step forward, and then Rintarou is in a headlock and on the receiving end of the <em> worst </em> noogie, and he’s probably going to end up with a bruised scalp.</p><p>“That’s for datin’ my brother, you sick freak!”</p><p>“Shut <em> up.</em>” Rintarou snorts and shoves wherever he can reach. In the ribs, maybe, he thinks?</p><p>When he’s no longer doubled over, he gives Atsumu a proper shove to the chest. </p><p>He wants to look away, but Atsumu Miya is a car crash that you just can’t tear your eyes away from. Atsumu only grins, far too feral and forgiving for his own good.</p><p>“Asshole,” Rintarou mutters, following Atsumu into the kitchen. </p><p>A warmth he hasn’t felt in ages makes itself at home in his chest, and he lets it.</p><p>Maybe he’s a bit too forgiving for his own good as well.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>welp! this is the first of hopefully a 3 or 4 pt series that will be completed during taylor swift x hq week :^)  fingers crossed ..</p></blockquote></div></div>
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